A Cold Dream
by tinx-r
Summary: A stakeout goes drastically wrong. Angst, hints at slash.


I've been having the same dream. At least, I think it's got to be a dream.

I know the lake, in the dream. I know the jetty that I'm sitting on, watching cold light reflect off gray water. I've walked between the trees on the opposite shore.

The thing is, that lake's not any place I've ever been. Not when I was a kid, not in 'Nam, nowhere. Dreams are sometimes like that, I guess.

You're with me. You know the lake too. We're fishing off the jetty and you point to a spot on the lake. "Tomorrow, Nick, we'll take a boat out there. The trout'll bite better."

"Whatever you say."

We sit a while longer. Not talking, just fishing. It gets colder, an inching chill rising from the lake, and I suddenly know we're a long way from any kind of shelter. I say, "Cody, we should go," and then I turn around.

I hear you tell me "Buddy, we need to stay put right now." Your voice is next to me, but you're not. I can't see you.

"Where are you, man?" I say. And right then, like a punch in the gut, I understand that what I'm feeling isn't just cold, it's dread. There's something wrong, shockingly wrong, and I don't know what.

"I'm right here, Nick." But you're not any more. Your voice is further away but the direction's wrong, not back along the jetty but towards those forbidding trees on the other side.

I'm panicking now. I've never been so scared in all my life, even though I don't know what it is I'm frightened of. "Cody! Don't leave me, Cody!"

You call me again, and now I can hear that you're scared too. "Nick! Nick, stay with me!"

"Cody!" This time I pretty much scream. And everything goes dark.

* * *

My best friend died tonight.

Even though his heart's beating again and he's breathing, now, those words won't leave my head. For a minute or two there, he was gone. If the paramedics had been five minutes slower, he'd still be gone. A mistake in the ER, he'd still be gone.

I'm pretty cool mostly, you know? I keep my head, whatever comes up. I've always got it under control, and I thought I could handle most things.

Turns out, losing Nick isn't something I can handle.

It's been hours and they won't let me see him. I don't know how many hours, just that the sun was out when the bullet took him in the chest and now it's full, black dark.

Murray's talking to me again. I know it, because I can see his lips moving. I can't hear him anymore. All I can hear is Nick, calling me with his last breath. _"Don't leave me, Cody!"_

I can hear again, and someone's holding me. Murray. "Thanks, Boz." A whisper's all I can come up with. "I'm sorry... I know you're hurting too."

He is, and I feel him nod. "He's going to make it, Cody." He's firm, determined, ready to take on Death with his logic and his computers, and it seems like Death knows Murray will win, too. The last time the nurse came, she told us Nick made it through surgery.

She wouldn't let me see him. "He's being transferred to the ICU. Go home and get some rest. You can see your friend tomorrow."

I've never thought of Murray as very strong, but he slammed me back in my seat like he meant it. I'm not sure what I was planning on doing. Shaking her, maybe? Shoving her out of the way, running through the ER, running until I found him? I don't know. Luckily, Murray can deal with hospital bureaucracy just as efficiently as he deals with anything else. We're waiting now, and they'll let us see him when he's 'stabilized'.

I haven't stopped shaking, but at least when Murray speaks to me I hear him, now.

* * *

He's breathing on his own. That's something.

Murray's looking at the equipment. So much of it. He's talking, but I can't make the words out.

The floor's cold, and I'm not sure why I'm down here. Murray's telling me I need to get up. I don't want to. And then I remember.

I can feel the crinkle of cracked vinyl on the hospital chair. The weave of the hospital sheet against my elbow. Murray's hand rubbing my back. Tears burning my cheeks. My mustache is wet, and I can taste salt.

Nick's hand is cool and passive in mine. This is my fault. The agency was my idea. _'If I'd kept my stupid mouth shut, the only danger you'd be in would be flying that pink dumpster. God, Nick, I'm sorry...'_ "Nick, if you'll just wake up I'll never call the Mimi names again."

"Cody."

It takes me a minute to realize that that's my name, that it's me Murray's talking to. "Huh?"

"The doctor said he won't wake up tonight. He's too heavily medicated."

"Oh."

I'm starting to feel a little better, I think. He's breathing. His heart's beating.

He didn't die tonight.

* * *

The dream's starting again. There's the lake. The cold, hard light of nowhere.

I can feel the splinters in the wooden jetty. I'm looking for you, because that's the only good part of this dream. The beginning, when we're together, before the nightmare starts. Before everything goes black.

I'm starting to wonder about that. Starting to wonder if I'm crazy. Or if I'm dead. I'm not sure this lake exists the right side of hell.

I want to ask you about that, if you know, but the dream won't let me. "Tomorrow, Nick, we'll take a boat out there. The trout'll bite better."

"Whatever you say."

_'Cody, help me.'_

Even in the dream, even knowing what comes next, it feels good, sitting there on the jetty with you. I want to keep my eyes on you, stop you from disappearing, but the dream turns my head back toward the water and first that makes me sad.

But now I'm not sure whether to be scared or excited. The lake looks different. The light's different. In the dream I should feel cold now, but I'm not. Are you still with me? "Cody?"

"Cody! Cody, he said something!"

_'Murray?'_

"Nick! Nick, can you hear me, buddy?"

_'Cody. Cody, at last, man. Don't leave me here again.'_

"Come on, pal. Stay with me."

Is that the dream again? _'Please God, no.'_ "Cody?"

"I'm here, Nick. I've got you."

Now I can feel you, you've got my hand. _'Don't let go, Cody.'_

My eyes hurt. The light's dim. Indoors. Beeping. What? _'Cody, where'd you go? Come back, man.'_ "Cody!"

"Take it easy." A woman's voice. _'Who?'_

_'You're back.'_ "Don't leave me here, Cody."

"I'm not leaving you, buddy."

* * *

"Cody, you have to eat."

"I can't leave him, Murray. I have to be here when he wakes up again."

I'm trying to make Cody understand that he won't be any use to Nick in a state of collapse himself, but I'm not making much progress.

The last 48 hours have been something, all right. There we were, on a routine stakeout, watching an apartment building. We had a description of the thief, we had his car registration, and all we had to do, theoretically, was wait for him to leave and search his place.

Theory and practice aren't always the same. We - well, I - found out afterwards, from Quinlan, that the thief wasn't just a thief. He was also high up in a drug smuggling operation. His security precautions were a lot more advanced than we were expecting, and we walked right into a trap. The thief's car left, we got out of the Jimmy, and Cody stopped to help me with the Roboz. Nick started crossing the road.

I'll never forget the next moment. There was a bang and Nick just crumpled. I didn't understand what had happened for a second. Cody did, though, and he nearly knocked me flying, diving for Nick. We were all very lucky the man with the gun didn't stay around to take another shot - Quinlan thinks it was meant as a warning to us, rather than a serious murder attempt - because if he had, I don't think any of us would be here today.

I used the Roboz's satellite hook-up to call an ambulance and the police, and to their credit, they were awfully fast. Lucky for Nick that they were. Lucky for all of us.

Nick and Cody are very close. I've always known that. I couldn't have lived with them for the past year and a half without knowing that. But I don't think I really understood how deeply they depend on each other. Come to think of it, I'm not sure if they really understood that themselves.

Cody hasn't left Nick since he came out of surgery. At the start, a nurse tried to tell us we couldn't see him, and I was seriously worried that Cody was going to do something... well, violent. Fortunately, I found an understanding doctor who agreed we could sit with Nick. Otherwise... well, otherwise, I think Cody would have been in the hospital, too. In the psychiatric ward. I'm just glad I was there for him.

This morning, after Nick woke up, the doctor finally gave us good news. Nick wasn't awake for very long, and he didn't seem to know where he was, but physically the doctor's pleased with how he's doing. He's off the monitors and they're going to give him solid food this afternoon. All going well, he'll be out of the ICU tonight and maybe even home by the end of the week.

And - since Nick woke up, Cody's come back to life. Even if I can't persuade him to eat or sleep, yet.

* * *

The dream again? Something's different. It's not a lake.

It's gray, and the light's kind of the same. It's a road. The main road.

Those aren't trees I'm looking at. It's a parking garage door, it's dark green. Kind of like trees, I guess. _'What's happening?'_

Stakeout. The thief. That's what we're doing. Not trout fishing. Thief-fishing. _'That's a good joke... Cody'll laugh when I tell him...'_

_'Cody? Where are you, man?'_ Where's the jetty?

Not a jetty. We were in the Jimmy. Then what? "Cody?"

"Nick? Buddy?"

"Cody..." I'm scared to open my eyes. _'Are you really there?'_ I don't think I can stand it if I can't see you, if it's the dream again...

"Squeeze my hand, Nick. You can do it." _'Can I?'_ I think I can. I can feel your hand now. _'You must be there.'_ Maybe I should open my eyes.

"Cody?" The light's funny here too, I'm not sure if I can see you. "Where are you?"

"I'm right here, buddy. I'm right here."

"Hey." I can see you._ 'Thank God.'_ "Cody..." Want to be close to you.

"No, Nick, don't try and move, pal. Stay still."

"Okay." Hurts. "What happened? Where are we?"

"In the hospital. He had a sniper laying for us. You got hit."

"Huh." Sniper? _'I'll figure it out later... tired...'_ "Cody, don't leave me, okay? If I end up back at that lake... I can't lose you again."

"I'm not leaving you, Nick. I'm right here. I can't lose you either, buddy."

* * *

The first week I was home, Cody fussed like nothing I'd ever seen. Understandable, I guess, but it grated, and eventually I snapped at him to leave me alone. We'd both done that a hundred times before, and every time, we'd have a little spat, redraw our boundaries, and go on. Not this time - he put down the cloth he'd been fussing with, sat down next to me and said, "Nick, please." He sounded so hurt. I felt like the biggest asshole in the world.

"Cody, man, I'm sorry." I tried to hug him - I only had one arm that worked properly, the other one was still in a sling. He hugged me instead.

"I thought I'd lost you, Nick. You stopped breathing, and I..."

His tears were hot on my neck. Until then, I hadn't thought about what it had been like for him. When I did, it started me crying, too.

We've talked a hell of a lot since then. Something like this, it makes you take a look at your life. What's important. I mean, I always knew I loved Cody. The feelings we have for each other aren't new, it's just that we're talking about them, now.

That dream still comes. I was right, that lake isn't anywhere this side of hell. I figured out, the dream's the only memory I have of getting shot.

It's still bad, the cold dread when I've lost Cody somewhere in that place I've never been, but now, when I call for him, he wakes me up. He's not lost, he's right beside me, and there's no lake, no jetty, just our cabin, our bed.

He holds me, whispers he loves me, tells me I'm safe. And I am.


End file.
